The Beast Cometh
by Fyrie
Summary: A new terror is popping up in random places of Harry-Potter canon! It seems hellbent on killing Harry! *gasp* Only one person can save the boywonder and she's...a plump, middle-aged hippy with too much jewellry?
1. Apologetic Introduction

Okay – quick explanation time before you start screaming "What the heck are you doing?" – I know most of you hate Mary-Sues, OCs and all that jazz, but trust me on this – Fyre is…different. Fyre is rather…special, shall we say? :)

Fyre stems from my time in the Buffy-verse, where – among a small contingent of Buffy buddies on a list known as YGTS? – I earned the nickname Satan for my unerring willingness to kill off large swathes of heroic figures. 

Thus, Fyre, the hero-hating, baddie-loving critter was born.

I made it easier for my dear character to be a homicidal maniac (in the nicest possible way) by making Fyre a nice kind of demon, called a Fyrian, who kills many things by typing their deaths into her laptop – oooooh! See the symbolism!

However, every evil fiend must have a counterpoint and Fyre's comes in the form of Gileswench, a charming amigo, who has a strange…liking for heroes and heroines (I know, I know, she's a strange, strange individual).

So, out of a moment of inspired madness, this idea cropped up: in which Fyre (having been introduced to Potter-verse by those charming people at YGTS including the mad Wenchie) decides to take a look and lo and behold, she becomes the ultimate bad guy critic and is willing to kill heroes left right and centre!

Can Wenchie stop her? Can Fyre ever really be stopped? And what is it with her and Luscious Lucius Malfoy?

Read on to find out…


	2. The Graveyard Scene: Interrupted

TITLE: The Beast Cometh… (one of many interludes)

AUTHOR: Fyre

RATING: PG

SPOILERS: Goblet of Fire

SUMMARY: Our favourite Fyrian demon hops dimensions.

DISCLAIMER: Not mine! Just sillily done!

NOTES: This was a birthday fic for a friend on a mailing list and was apparently wiped from the archives when Harry Potter Author Fics were taken down. 

The Fyrian demon critter is as close a Mary-Sue as you're likely to get from me in Potter-verse (she was originally spawned from the Buffy-verse where I have something of a mini-reputation among friends for killing, maiming and generally causing suffering for the masses, while keeping in canon). Unlike other Mary-Sues, she isn't usually romantically taken with characters. She just likes criticising them. A lot. Especially bad guys who suck at being bad.

DEDICATION: Wenchie - a happy birthday to ya - I felt like doing something silly!

  
____________________________________________  


Harry wanted to scream at the sight before him: the white, snake-like face, red eyes and the slitted nostrils. There was no mistaking who he was seeing before him, reincarnated and whole once again.  
  
He also knew that tonight was the night he would die.  
  
He had been lucky too many times.  
  
"Untie him," the high, cold thin voice said. Wormtail scrambled to obey, Harry's wand in his hand. The ropes holding the young Wizard to Riddle's gravestone fell loose and he sagged forward on the cold, wet dirt.  
  
"What now, m-master?"  
  
It looked like Voldemort smiled, but is was hard to tell on his thin, eerie face. "Give him back his wand." There were surprised mutters from the circle of Death Eaters around them, but only one voice was loud enough for the words to carry.  
  
"What?!? Are you thick in the head?!? Give him back his wand? Give him a chance to get away, YET again? Oh, come on. Where's the evil genius we've been waiting with baited breath to see? Give him his wand, oh yeah…bloody brilliant idea…smashing…"  
  
All eyes turned in the direction of the voice.  
  
Voldemort's own wand sparked, but he gestured for Wormtail to keep a hold of Harry's wand. He scrutinised the stranger, wondering who would be foolish enough to approach - let alone insult - him, the Dark Lord.  
  
Whoever it was, he couldn't be certain what it was meant to be.  
  
It looked female and human, but two copper-coloured horns protruded from a mass of tangled brown hair. A ring of white sat atop the protrusions, glowing slightly. He could almost believe it was humming quietly.   
  
Extremely Muggle clothing covered her from head to toe: an oddly-patterned shirt that looked like it had been worn a few too many times and a shabby pair of jeans that scraped the ground. Large, mustard boots peeked out from beneath the jeans.  
  
Scratched and out-of-shape spectacles sat on her nose and a wide grin was flashed at Voldemort, whose attention had just fallen on a large badge pinned on the shirt. `Ask Me About Big Whoop!' the badge proclaimed in vivid red letters.  
  
Despite the semi-temptation to ask the creature about Big Whoop (Hey, even super-powerful evil sorcerers can't know everything), Voldemort levelled his wand at it and snarled, "Avada Kedavra!"  
  
A blast of green light erupted from the tip. All of the Death Eaters and Harry threw up their arms to shield their eyes. Voldemort laughed that cold, high laugh of his that was becoming so notorious.  
  
It was echoed by a manic giggle from the creature.  
  
Which was apparently still alive.  
  
"Do I have a scar like him?" it demanded, pointing at Harry, as the smoke cleared. She grinned at the stunned Voldemort again. "What? You didn't think you'd be able to bump me off, just like that, did you?"  
  
Taking a step towards her, red eyes narrowing, Voldemort frowned slightly. "Who are you? *What* are you?"  
  
"Me?" Brushing herself down with a grin, the creature chuckled mischievously. "I'm Evil, that's what I am." She paused. "Or at least that's what the Stoners call me. That or Satan or…my name," She attempted to look innocent. "Fyre."  
  
He moved closer. "And what do you want?"  
  
"Hmm…lemme think…" Tapping her chin thoughtfully, she wrinkled her freckled nose slightly. "Lemme think…I take my friends advice, I nose through this world, I skip fandoms and you, the evil villain, want to know why?"  
  
"I would advise you to speak…Fyre."  
  
"Or you'll…" She waggled her fingers. "Avra Kedavra me again?" she sniggered. "I was going to tell you anyway. I like villains. Villains are fun and usually quite yummy. I wanted to come and give you hand to do what you've been waiting 15 years to do."  
  
Voldemort's eyes flicked to Harry who was looking even more nervous. "Why would I need your help?"  
  
"Why would you need help?" She laughed again. The laugh was high and annoying. She pulled a laptop from a rucksack on her back. "I think it's a better question - why wouldn't you? You've failed to kill him three times. I just wanna help."  
  
"FYRE!"  
  
"Uh…oh…" The thing froze.   
  
"Uh oh, is right, young lady. What did we tell you about intervening?" A small, plump woman bustled up, a wand grasped in her ring-bedecked hand. She was followed by a small group of about twenty, who now stood behind her silently. Some were holding balloons and streamers, others in birthday hats and the like.  
  
Fyre smiled painfully. "That I can do what I'm best at?" A burst of light from the woman's wand knocked the laptop from the creature's hands. The white ring on her horns glowed briefly. "Okay, okay, write a happy story for your birthday and let Harry survive…"  
  
"Very good," The small woman nodded gleefully. "And we can't spoil the series."  
  
"Series? Story? What in the Dark Lord's name is going on?" one of the masked Death Eater's demanded.  
  
The woman smiled. "Lucius, shut up. We tell you, we ruin the continuity. I just came here to stop my pet maniac doing any damage," Fyre pouted, but looked rather pleased at the woman's commendation. "And I want to have a nice birthday party."  
  
"Do I get cake, Wenchie?" Fyre asked, the ring on her horns a dazzling white. "Is it a chocolate one? With cream? And ice cream?"  
  
"Of course," Wenchie - if that was her name - smiled. "Come on. The burning fires of hell are getting cold…it'll ruin the party mood if they go out, dear Satan." She looped her arm through the horned creature's. "Ready?"  
  
There was a yell from the group, a flash of light and they were gone. And several blank looks were exchanged.  
  
Voldemort blinked. "Wormtail, I thought I told you to give Potter his wand."  
  
"Yes, Master, of course, master."  
  
Voldemort felt a tingling shiver pass down his spine, making him chuckle. Something had happened, something that he had had his mind wiped for. He couldn't say what, but evil was in the air.   
  
It was a rather pleasant feeling.  
  
Turning his attention back to the young wizard at his feet, he grinned. No matter. Soon, Potter would be out of the way. It was time for a wizard's duel.  



End file.
